


Definitely a Lewis

by onlythinglefttodo



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Iron Man 3, The Avengers (2012) Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-04
Updated: 2015-04-30
Packaged: 2018-02-28 03:57:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2717942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlythinglefttodo/pseuds/onlythinglefttodo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So I am not quite sure how this happened. No really. This just appeared as a small drabble, and somehow wouldn't go away unless I wrote it down.<br/>First ever fan fiction. So suggestions and comments are more than welcome.<br/>This is also the first time i have left any of the general public read any of my work, so please be gentle with me.<br/>**</p><p>Vivian Lewis is the older sister to Darcy Lewis. When Darcy calls her big sister one day in a panic, this is the resulting series of incidents. </p><p>Eventually there will be a pairing. Can't decide with who yet. Any suggestions??</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Definitely a Lewis

                Vivian Lewis plucked at her dress shirt awkwardly. She was wearing a button down blouse with slacks for Chris’sakes.

                When she had left the bathroom that morning after dressing, Darcy had burst into laughter at her. She was sure the expression on her face hadn’t helped, but the business attire was so not her, and Darcy was hopefully laughing at the clothes and not her older sister’s torment. Hopefully. Vivian had been in army fatigues so long that dressing for the office place made her feel grossly self-conscious.

                Vivian sent a sideways look to her younger sister-who in the long twisted line of events that lead her here-could be at blame for her current attire issues.

 

                It had been nearly a year ago now when she had received an overseas emergency call from Darcy who had been in London for her continuing internship with an astrophysicist. (Don’t ask her how it related to Darcy’s degree in Political Science, but Darcy defended the internship and Doctor Foster enough that Vivian had let it go. And gotten their father off her back too.) During the short phone call, Darcy had been panic ridden and let loose a flurry of words that would have had Vivian searching for the name of a Doctor if she hadn’t been watching the news a few years ago when New York had been attacked. By Gods and Aliens.

                Finding her younger sister was involved had sent Vivian into her own tailwind of panic, trying to think of ways to get her superior officers to give her family leave.

                Not even 48 hours after the call she was ushered in an officer’s tent by her Major and introduced to an Agent Sitwell.

                “Fuck me.” Had been her response to seeing him and the three sunglass wearing men with him. He was hard to describe. Nothing really stood out in his appearance to describe him to others, he was tan, glasses and a shaved head, basically bland. It could describe any hundreds of soldiers on base. It was his calm demeanor and blank stare that gave him away. The men with him were equally as bland, and the sunglasses indoors didn’t help. What the hell had Darcy gotten her into?

                “Definitely a Lewis.” A man had laughed in response to her cussing. He had been hidden just inside the entry way of the tent. She flinched and reached for a gun that wasn’t there. She winced, but he merely rose a brow over his own sunglasses. His didn’t look like an affectation, but just part of his look.

                He was dressed differently that the other four. They looked uncomfortable in borrowed ill-fitting camouflage gear, and he was wearing a very fitted leather battle suit. Strangely, his arms were bare, except for a gauntlet on one wrist. There was also some sort of weapon strapped to his back.

                “You sure you’re a medic?” He asked in a tone she couldn’t decide was curiosity or amusement.

                “I typically tend to close holes as opposed to making them.” Vivian shot out dryly, not liking the possibility of amusement on his behalf.

                He barked out a laugh, “Typically?”

                “You said it. I’m a Lewis.” She glanced back at the others who had merely watched the exchange. It felt like she’d passed a test of some sorts.

                “How much trouble is Darcy in?” Vivian finally asked, breaking the silence. _And me_ , she inwardly thought.

                “By calling you, Ms Lewis broke every single NDA she signed.” Agent Sitwell finally spoke again. Vivian winced. Non-disclosure agreements? Oh Darcy...

                “Is she being detained?” was her next question. She didn’t know what Agency these guys were with. Guantanamo hissed through her mind. Vivian might be in the Canadian military, but Darcy was an American citizen. Fuck.

                “No. she has been left in play with Doctor Foster, and has been strongly reminded of the severity of breaking her legally binding government documents.” His lip twitched and she almost thought she saw humor there.

                “So she’s going to be left to finish her schooling?”

                The leather bound man behind her sighed dramatically. _Impressive arms. Not the time Lewis,_ she chided herself. Any other day and she’d let herself fully ogle his arms.

                It was her turn to raise a brow at him.

                “You’re not asking the right questions.” He told her, a cheeky grin gracing his face. He was too cute for his own good, and the man knew it.

                “Excuse me?”

                He sighed at her again. Obviously another wrong question.

                “Who gave Darcy that taser she sleeps with?” He finally asked after a long pause in the conversation.

                “I did. And if you know about that, then I claim her right hook too.” She smirked at him, every inch a proud older sister.

                One of the agents choked back a sudden laugh. Agent Sitwell glared at him. _Interesting._

                Arms- that was what she began calling him in her head- as no one had offered names except for the brief introduction by her Major, grinned as he sidled past her. He flung himself into a chair and lifted his legs onto the table top in an artful fluid motion. He was all agile animal grace. Dangerous. Her hackles rose and her guard suddenly went back up. This guy was definitely no suit wearing agent. _Frack,_ she thought, _Just who the hell am I dealing with?_

                He smiled at her, recognizing her body’s stiffening. The only weapon on her was her knife in her boot. Having seen him move, Vivian knew she’d be taken down before she pulled it. They both recognized that in each other.

                Agent Sitwell sat down across from Arms, no animal grace in him, but a different bureaucratic kind of danger. He began to flip open a file on the table in front of him that she hadn’t noticed before.

                “Colonel Vivian Lewis. Royal Canadian Military, combat field medical technician. Age 27, born to David John Lewis, Lte. Major, retired of United States Navy, and Sally Owens--”

                “Stop.” She interrupted. He glared at her, but she continued, “I know all this. I bet you know all this. Arms looks like he was born knowing this. ...and those guys? They just looked like the cleanup crew.”

                Arms barked out a long laugh, “Darce called me the same thing.”

 _Whoa, wait, he was calling her Darce? Nobody got to call her Darce, just like nobody got to call her Vivi. What in the holy hells was actually going on here_? She thought there would be some stomping of feet in a tantrum over their secrets being spilled and she’d have to sign some of the same NDAs as Darcy. This was... scarier than that. At least her CO knew she was in here with them.

                “As a Military woman, I was hoping for a little less brevity and more respect of rank and situation.” Agent Sitwell scolded her. Or tried. Vivian bristled over his attitude.

                “One: You are not my Commanding Officer. Two: Respect is earned Agent Sitwell. I don’t even know who you work for, and brevity is *always* allowed the face of jackbooted thugs.” Arms snickered. “Three: And this is the kicker: LEWIS.”

                Arms burst into laughter, at this point not even trying to hide it. Vivian struggled to contain her smile.

                “I think I like her more than Darcy.” A first. “Did you notice her thinking about going for her weapon earlier?”

                “It was noted.” Sitwell replied drying, clearly not impressed with Arms or her.

                “Her military records are _nearly_ flawless.”

                _Yes,_ she thought dryly, _just that one teensy reprimand for insubordination_. For leaving cover to help two men in her unit after an attack separated them. It had resulted in her losing the two men and grievous injury to herself. Horror swept through her, and she felt small and alone in the giant tent with these men judging her. They might have her file, but it was the mere facts on the event. It didn’t talk about seeing Thomas’s blank death stare, or James’ crying for his best friend and then his parents as she struggled and failed to contain his bleeding. None of that was in her file, and she suddenly resented these men having read it.

“The men on her team love her. None of her superior officers have any negative comments.” Arms continued.

                “Colonel Lewis, due to the fragile and frankly extremely secret nature of the topic of conversation between you and Miss Lewis and yourself we’ve come to bring you into the fold.”

                She quickly translated his jargon, “I’m being forcibly conscripted into an alphabet agency?” She was now figuring these guys to be the CIA perhaps.

                “I definitely like her more. She gets it.” Arms told Agent Sitwell a matter of factly.

                “You can’t do that. I’m a Canadian citizen.” Vivian told them.

                “And yet.” Arms shrugged at her. She resisted stomping her foot at him.

                “We can. We’re part of the Global Council. The world has changed Colonel.” Sitwell smiled at her, all shark teeth.

                “Welcome to SHIELD.” Arms smiled at her.

                “Fuck me.”

 

                That had been the autumn before the Triskelion fell. SHIELD was revealed to be full of HYDRA insurgents, and a clusterfuck of epic proportions was unleashed upon SHIELD, and she as a baby agent had been caught unprepared.

                She’d taken two lives after Captain America’s speech escaping the place.

                She understood very little about HYDRA, but had seen the Captain America tour at the Smithsonian at Darcy’s insistence, and had read her history books. Also, common sense, and being a compassionate human being, Nazis equal very very bad things. And when Captain America asks you for help...

                In the downfall of SHIELD Vivian had made it back to Darcy. During the chaos and consequent upheaval, her younger sister pulled through for her, scoring her a job at Stark Industries. The interview had been with Virginia Potts herself.

                April had flown by in such a blur of terror and chaos she wasn’t quite sure how she had made it through with her mind intact.

                So here she was plucking at an uncomfortable shirt, new title Vivian Lewis, science lab security comma medic.

                _Fuck me._

 

 

 


	2. Twice The Awesome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> May I present, Chapter 2.

               Despite the dire dress code, Vivian settled into the rhythm of the labs nicely. It was loud, chaotic and often dangerous, (Stark was a menace!) but so had been Afghanistan. She’d traded in sand, fatigues, and explosions, for a skyscraper, dress slacks and explosions.

                She had met the infamous Tony Stark early on, and she still hadn’t decided if she liked him or not.

                “Two Lewis’?” He’d questioned.

                “Yep.” Darcy had answered. Vivian stayed quiet.

                “What was Pepper thinking?”

                “Twice the awesome?” Darcy replied Dryly, not even bothering to look up from the laptop screen to acknowledge the billionaire.

                “Not sure about that Kiddo. She looks all stick in ass’y.” Vivian was used to people judging her based on her appearance and reticence to engage in banter, but she felt like Stark was demanding a reaction out of her and was baiting her on purpose, as opposed to any real malice.

                “Fuck you Stark.” Vivian had replied.

                He’d looked her up and down a couple times. She felt his gaze linger on her face, and knew he’d be looking up her file and history as soon as they separated. His eyes lingered on her facial scars and she met his eyes, daring him to comment. He smirked, and his gaze moved back to her sister.

                “No thanks.” He’d finally said. “The younger Lewis is hotter.”

                Vivian didn’t have a response to that, because it was true, even before an IED had scarred her face. It wasn’t terrible, or completely deforming, just large. She’d seen far worse in her tours, it was just crooked lines of white cutting across her cheekbone. She had long ago gotten used to it, and it only ever bothered her when people gave her that look of pity. Like a woman’s worth was in a pretty face.

                Most assumed it was from a car accident, but reality had been far scarier. It occurred when she had been attempting to pull a man in her unit to safety from an IED attack. She had taken some shrapnel to her face. It shouldn’t have scarred so badly, but with two of her men out, she had concentrated of stopping their blood flow, and ignored her own wounds. Shock and heartbreak had prevented her from seeking help afterwards.

                “Don’t be an asshole Tony. Viv’s awesome.” Darcy came to her defense.

                How did she explain to someone that she used to be fun? That war and life and death had taken its toll on her in a few short years? Darcy defended her because she remembered Vivian before she enlisted. A Vivian who laughed more, was more carefree, and not so rigid with the rules. A Vivian who got her first tattoo at seventeen and her first piercings soon thereafter. She remembered a Vivian who went on dates, who enjoyed life to its fullest.

                A Vivian who had no idea what she wanted to do with her life. Only that she wanted to ‘help people’. So her father suggested the Armed Forces. It was supposed to open doors for her, into the RCMP, or into becoming a Paramedic. Instead, the IED had happened, and survivor’s guilt kept her overseas. At least that’s what Darcy told her.

                Their father had not said much on the subject, he was a Military man himself, and his only problem with Vivian enlisting and staying on was that she was in the Canadian army instead of the American.

                Tony sent her a piercing look before dismissing her, and sending Darcy a smirk.

                “Whatever you say kiddo.” And he stalked off. _What an ass._

 

 

                After a month of working in the labs, Vivian and Tony slowly warmed to each other. He, after finding he couldn’t hurt her feelings or drive her away with his comments and her upon realizing that he actually liked it when she sassed him back. Tony had a thing about women sassing him. She noticed him light up whenever Pepper rolled her eyes and said his name in that pleading exasperated way.

                The job itself was boring. She felt silly being armed in the Tower, and the only wounds she seemed to be taking care of were paper cuts of the lab report kind. It was a vast difference from what she was used to, and she felt a little guilty after each call only led to minor wounds.

                She was typing up a report of the latest band aid application, sighing in defeat. She’d had been forcibly taken from a career she chosen, only to be left with this unsatisfying job. It was frustrating enough to be bitter at Captain America for taking out Hydra Neo Nazis. Almost. Vivian sighed breathily in defeat.

                She hit send on the report and leaned back, narrowly being missed by an orange projectile aimed her direction. It was a small foam dart with a suction cup. She picked it up and slowly looked around her small office. There was definitely no one in here with her, the door happened to be open, but the angle of the shot...

                She glanced to the ceiling, where there was an AC duct. There was movement and a panel on the ceiling was pulled from view. A familiar grinning face popped into view. She hadn’t seen him since their first and only meeting a year ago. He wasn’t wearing sunglasses today, and looked to be dressed a little more casual, from what she could see of him anyways. He had blue eyes that were crinkled in mischief, which matched his grin. His sandy hair was sprinkled with the ceiling tile dust. He was stunningly handsome.

                “If that had been a bullet or an arrow, Stark would be down one mall cop.” He told her. _Mall cop? The cheeky bastard._

                “Are those panels bullet proof? Because I am properly armed.” She smirked back.

                “That hurts Lewis.” He grinned at her, and she flushed as she grinned in repose. “You up for a game? The baby scientists can bandage their own boo boos for a while.”

                “I’m on the clock.”

                “Stark is playing too. And Darce. She said you never would.”

                _Low blow Arms._ He knew exactly what buttons to push and this was only her second meeting with the man. Stark hadn’t figured out any of her triggers yet.

                “What’s the game?”

                “Best man wins.” He brought up a small nerf gun and waggled it at her.

                “Teams?” She asked.

                “What do you say to two ex soldiers vs. the lab monkeys?"

                She grinned at him, “I think Darcy deserves what she gets.”

                “That’s my girl.” He disappeared from the hole in the ceiling, reappearing quickly. He tossed her down a nerf gun and a bag of plastic darts.

                Vivian quickly loaded the gun.

                “What are the rules?”

                “I said earlier, best man wins. JARVIS is keeping score.”

                “You’re a good man JARV,”

                “Quite, Ms. Lewis.” The AI responded. Learning about him had been quite a shock, but after the year Vivian had just had, she’d adapted rather quickly. JARVIS and she had bonded over the mocking of Stark, and he had become an asset in figuring the ins and outs of the Tower and her job. She had never been able to break him of his form of address.

                Arms laughed at her sour expression over the Ms. Address.

                “Stark found it funny, and now JARVIS can't use anything else. And what do I call you? I never did get a name.”

                “Arms is good. I like arms.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

                “JARVIS?”

                “This is Agent Clinton Francis Barton.”

                “I see why you like arms. Can I call you Frankie?”

                “Clint is fine.” He said dryly. “Let’s go. JARVIS can you let Darcy know that big sis is in, and that it’s on?”

There was a pause while JARVIS relayed the message.

                “Miss Lewis says, quote ‘Bring it.’ End quote.”

                “Thanks JARVIS. Any clue where they are?”

                “That would be cheating sir.”

                “Figures. Are they at least on this floor?”

                “They are. And Sir reminds you that all levels of the science division are free game except for Doctor Banner’s.”

                “Yep, staying out of Banner’s lab.” Clint agreed. Vivian had never met Doctor Banner, or visited his lab. It was completely off limits to her. Something about her security level and Avengers business. Darcy was denied access also, but had at least met the Doctor. Vivian mostly tried to ignore the feeling of exclusion. She was the outsider here after all, brought in on Darcy and Jane’s goodwill.

                “You staying in the ceiling?” she asked.

                “I see better from far away.”

                “I don’t know if that makes sense in a human sort of way.”

                “It makes sense in an Avengery kind of way.”

                _What the hell does that even mean?_

                He disappeared from view. She guessed the game was on. Double checking her weapon, Vivian exited her office slowly, checking for enemies. Namely, her little sister and her boss.

                She went left, towards the cubicles. This time of day it would be full of people, but suspected that Darcy would use them for cover. As soon as she entered the room, Vivian found herself cover behind a fake plant and the water cooler. And she waited.

                Darcy was nothing if not impatient. And Stark never struck her as the hide and wait kind either.

               

                It didn’t take long for Darcy to poke her head up above a cubicle. Vivian took careful aim, and pulled the trigger. Her dart hit Darcy in the shoulder. Darcy reacted like it was a real bullet and screeched as she ducked down below the cubicle line.

                “Which one of you rat bastards was that?” Darcy shouted and Vivian sniggered to herself.

                Vivian had begun to crawl and make her way towards where she had seen Darcy go down. Making eye contact with one of the cubicle residents, she made a shushing motion by bring her finger to her lips. He was one of the guys who she’d bandaged earlier in the week. His at least was a substantial cut from a broken beaker. He smiled at her, and nudged his head in the direction of the next cubicle over.

                _“THANK YOU.”_ She mouthed and drew her weapon. Darcy was still shouting and carrying on. Vivian held back a laugh.

                “Who’s out there?”

                Vivian quietly stood, and was leaning towards Darcy’s cubicle when two darts in rapid succession flew past her head. She yelped and retreated as the third hit her. She burst into giggles as she ran from the cubicle room, with Darcy and Stark shouting at her and each other. They didn’t sound like they were working well together.

                “This is your thirty minute mark. Scores are as follows: Agent Barton 5, Miss Lewis zero, Sir 2, and Ms. Lewis 1.” JARVIS’s voice cut through on the intercoms.

                “WHAT!?” screeched Darcy, and Vivian was hard pressed not to laugh. “How the hell does Barton have 5 points!?”

                “Aim first, then pull trigger.” Came Clint’s voice from somewhere above them in the ceilings. How the hell was he doing that anyways?

                “You rat bastard Barton!”

                “Umm guys, you’re scaring the baby scientists more than usual.” Came Tony’s dry voice, and then, “Are we all hiding in the cubicle forest?”

                “Viv are you here too?” Darcy asked.

                Vivian debated on answering, not wanting to give away her hiding spot by the water cooler. She doubted Clint could see her from here.

                “She’s here.” Clint answered.

                “Soo... how does this end?” Stark asked. “Shoot out at the OK Corral?” Someone in the cubicles laughed.

                “Works for me,” said Darcy. “On the count of three?”

                “One.” Stark started.

                “Two.” Went Darcy.

                And then nothing. Vivian bit back a snort of laughter. No one was willing to be bluffed by the other team. She wished she knew where Clint was, so she could hit the person closest to her instead of guessing.

                “If I may?” JARVIS interrupted.

                “Go ahead JARV.” Tony said. She wished she could pin point where he was. It was even hard to identify Darcy’s cubicle from her vantage point. She was well protected, but not in a good location to return fire.

                “One.” JARVIS started. She made sure her gun was armed. Five darts loaded, and four left in her pocket.

                “Two.”

                Her tension notched, and she grinned to herself. This was so much fun. She was squatting uncomfortably, but was ready to burst up to fire on Tony and Darcy.

                “Three.”

                She stood, and kept her body hidden behind the cubicle. She saw Tony first, and fired two shots in succession. They both hit. He glared at her as he fired back. None of his shots landed.

                “Damn, I’m out.” He muttered, and stood fully, leaving the cubicles.

                Darcy had been firing at the ceiling and in Vivian’s general direction. She hit her sister once before they both started shouting at each other and firing blindly. She ducked down to reload.

                A couple darts flew at her from Darcy’s direction, but then a shot flew at her from above. _...The hell?_ She gasped.

                “Arms you back stabbing bastard!” Vivian shouted when she realized that Clint had turned on her.

                He laughed from the ceiling, and another dart pinged across her other side. He had her trapped.

                “..Wait, you guys were on a team?” Darcy asked. “CHEATERS!”

                “...You guys weren’t teamed up?” Vivian responded, ducking well out of Clint’s sight.

                “You’ve been played Lewis the first.” Tony told her. He was standing above her hiding spot, grinning smugly.

                “I see that.”

                “What’s the score JARVIS?”

                “Standings are currently: Agent Barton 7, Miss Lewis two, Sir two, and Ms. Lewis three.”

                “I think we’ve all been played.” Vivian told him.

                “Alright Barton,” Vivian shouted grudgingly. “You win. I’m out too.”

                Stark rose his brows at her, because he had just loaded her last two darts into her gun. They heard the shuffling as Clint moved in the vents above them.

                “No hard feelings Lewis?” She could hear the grin in his voice.

                “Rematch another day.” Vivian told him, and stood, hiding her gun at her hip. The shuffling continued above them. He obviously wasn’t going for stealth, so much as rubbing it in.

                “Where does he exit? I have two darts with his name on them.”

                “If you can beat him, the west stairwell, this level, there’s a hatch he uses all the time.” Stark told her. She ran for it. She heard Darcy faintly shouting at Stark to keep up with her. Vivian wasn’t waiting. She had a mission.

 

                She paused outside the door to the stairwell. Sliding along the frame, she held up her gun, and inched along the wall so she could peek into the narrow window.

                She saw the curve of his shoulder, and a patch of his blonde hair. His back was to her. Perfect.

                Vivian burst through the door, pulling the trigger on her gun.

                “Take that asshole!” She shouted. Her dart hit his shoulder. Vivian realized her mistake as soon as she shouted. The man was too tall, too broad, too blonde, and too...not Clint.

                “Ma’am?” He questioned.

                “Well fuck.” She cursed.

                She heard Clint laughing behind her. And she pushed the blonde man behind her; she pulled up her gun and whirled in a precision movement. Way too late.

                Clint’s dart struck her dead centre of her chest. Her shot went wide.

                “I kind of hate you.”

                “Yes. But you had fun.” He smiled at her.

                “Umm, is it safe?” The blonde man finally spoke.

                “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!”

                Clint started laughing.

                “Dude! You shot at Captain America?” Darcy and Tony had finally caught up, both joining Clint in laughing at her.

                “He shouldn’t look like Clint from behind.” Vivian shot back at Darcy, then to her victim, “Captain America? Really?”

                “Steve Rogers, Ma’am.”

                “Capsicle! Meet Lewis the Elder!”

                “Vivian.” She corrected, and held out her hand. He shook it warmly, smiling at her.

                “Nice shot, by the way.” He told her, “Sorry I wasn’t Clint.”

                Vivian knew his face. Everyone knew his face. Everyone had seen the news in 2012, and he was a bloody Smithsonian exhibit. She wasn’t prepared for him. He had a force of personality that was hard to duplicate. Hell, she’d been at the Triskelion, had heard his monologue and been spurred into action.

                He smiled at her, and she pulled her hand away quickly, realising she’d left it in his too long. Someone sniggered behind her. _Damn, audience._

                “You cost me my revenge.” Vivian tried to make up for her awkwardness with snark. She was a master at it. Thankfully, they all let her.

                “Next time invite me. I can hear him in the vents.”

                “Hey! A super soldier playing is cheating!” Tony complained.

                “So is an Avenger against a civilian Tony.” Steve chided. Clint laughed.

                “Vivian isn’t a civilian, she’s ex military.” Darcy told him.

                Steve’s eyebrows rose higher than they had any right to. Darcy giggled. Vivian knew she didn’t look military. Standing between Steve and Clint, she looked shorter than ever, and having curves that matched her sister’s didn’t add to helping her look fearsome. Neither did the freaking pantsuit.

                “Relax those eyebrows Captain,” Vivian told him dryly. “I was a medic. And now I apply bandages for a living.” She tried to sound humorous and not bitter.”

                It was really the only job she could find. With all of SHIELD’s files being released to the world. Her name had been listed as an agent and that made her not hire-able. Darcy had saved her bacon.

                “And it’s about time I get back to it.” Vivian finished. “So, Agent Arms, Tony, Dearest Sister, and Captain, have a good day.”

                And she strode away, having no clue how good the pant suit made her ass look. Steve and Clint stared after her retreating form until she disappeared around a corner.

                “That’s my sister you guys. Gross.” Darcy swatted at both of them.

 

 

 


	3. Does it Come in Purple?

               Today was a Saturday, and Darcy had convinced Jane that _Science!_ could wait for a weekend. Saturdays were typically Vivian’s day off also, so she found herself with nothing to do. For lack of social life other than her younger sister, Vivian was going to spend the day reading. Again.

                Stepping out of her bedroom, Vivian found Darcy in the kitchen.

                “Hey. Did you have plans today?” She asked as she handed Vivian a coffee. Vivian took the cup, but she rose a brow in question. Darcy was never this accommodating in the mornings.

                “What do you want?”

                “Can’t a sister get her sister a nice cup of coffee in the morning without ulterior motives?”

                “Yes a sister could, but you couldn’t.” Vivian responded.

                Darcy giggled at her. “True. But my motives are good this morning. I want to take you shopping. Jane’s coming too.”

                “Darcy, I hate shopping.”

                “I know, but this is necessary. Your wardrobe and your bedroom need rescuing.”

                “Darcy…”

                “Finish your coffee, and eat a bagel. I’m having a shower. This is happening Viv.” With that, Darcy flounced off for the shower.

                Vivian sagged into a chair. The sisters shared an apartment in the residential section of Stark tower. Three floors had been converted into gorgeous apartments. Most of them were empty, and Stark had mentioned that people would be trickling in slowly. Darcy’s portion of the common area and her bedroom were a riot of colours and decorations. Vivian hadn’t thought about decorating her room until this moment. It was her first permanent home since enlisting all those years ago. Even so, she had only gone so far as to buy sheets and a comforter.

                She had hummed and hawed over the different sets in the store. She eventually spent more money on sheets than she had in her entire life, leaving the store with high count Egyptian cotton in bright purple. It was the most ridiculous purchase she’d ever made. Her comforter was plain black, and boring. Her dresser and closet were filled with business attire that she hated, her old fatigues, and dress uniform. The back of her closet also contained her gun safe. There was also a decent sized bookshelf that she was slowly filling up. Everything else in the bedroom was there when she moved in.

                By the time she’d had a second cup of coffee, and eaten a bagel, Darcy was ready to go. She was swathed in her typical amount of cozy knitwear. Vivian was feeling more comfortable than she had in ages, wearing jeans, an ARMY tank top and a grey hoodie.

                There was a quick knock on the door, and Darcy jumped to let Jane into their apartment.

                “Did you guys decide where we’re going first? JARVIS has given us a company car.”

                Vivian let out a small noise at that. Stark and his seemingly empty pockets were spoiling them.

                “Don’t start Vivian. Purple sheets alone do not a home make. This is important; you need to feel like this is your home.”

                Damn, she’d seen the sheets. Vivian blushed, and prayed Darcy wouldn’t continue, but little sisters being what they were she carried on.

                “And as rockin’ as those sheets are, you still need more things. If you don’t make any faces or grumble for the rest of the day, we can skip clothes.”

                That thought brightened Vivian considerably. Jane smiled widely at her in commiseration. She after all, worked with Darcy daily. There was something incredibly special and annoying about a girl that could boss around her elders and get them out in the world having lives. Vivian was sure that left to her own devices, Jane would be buried in her lab somewhere.

                “Fine. I could use some frames, I have all these photos of my unit...”

                “Great! And I thought we could get you a cozy reading chair and some knickknacks. You need a nook!” Darcy announced, and headed for the door.

                “What’s a nook?” Vivian had to ask, as she grabbed her coat and followed her sister out the door.

 

                The store the driver took them to was enormous, and one of those places where they had little fake rooms set up to display their products. Everything looked like it was out of a magazine. It was, frankly, full of beautiful things that Vivian suddenly craved. Building the apartment into a home didn’t seem so scary anymore.

                The girls split up, each wandering in a different direction, Vivian was under orders from Darcy to find at least three things here or they weren’t leaving. _God. Little Sisters._

“Hello, can I help you find anything in particular?” A smiling sales person had approached her as soon as Jane and Darcy wandered away. Vivian smiled to herself, knowing she’d been picked out as weakest in their pack.

                “Frames? Or wall hangings? I am under strict orders to decorate my apartment. From my bedroom out.”

                The sales lady laughed, and gestured to the other side of the store, where Vivian could just see a wall that was covered in colourful canvases.

                She was instantly attracted to the bright prints of photos from what looked like the Pacific Northwest where she had grown up. Her heart squeezed a little bit. With being on tour, conscripted into SHIELD, and now her job at SI, she hadn’t been home in well over a couple years.

                She turned to the sales lady, who was hovering a polite distance away, and asked, “Do you have any prints of the desert?”

                “I might have something with the pyramids on it?”

                “No, just the sand, I miss the desert. Looking out across the dunes. They go on forever.” _Whoa, where did that come from?_

                “Are you military? I wondered about the shirt.” The woman’s eyes blazed across her scar. _The shirt, and the scar, you mean,_ Vivian inwardly sighed, but made no outward acknowledgment about it.

                “Um, yeah...”

                “Why don’t we look in the catalogue and we can see about ordering something in for you.” The woman thankfully sensed Vivian’s reticence and put on a chipper smile.

                “That would be great.”

               

                “Viv! Viv, come look, I think I found your nook chair.”

                “You never did explain what a nook is.” Vivian muttered at Darcy as she left the catalogue to go see the nook chair.

                It wasn’t what she had pictured: some stuffy arm chair from masterpiece theatre. What Darcy had found was a decadent piece of furniture that Vivian would never have imagined she would ever own. Now she knew she had to go home with it. It was low to the ground and circular and …plush. She wanted it.

                “Does it come in purple?”

                They finished at the furniture store, and Vivian had to hold her breath at the cost of the items she’d picked. Even with her savings, and the massive wage at SI, it hurt.

                “Just give them the card Viv, don’t look. Think about sitting in that sweet chair tonight with a book.”

                “D’you girls mind if we stop across the street? There’s a dress in the window I want to look at. Stark is hosting another of his fundraisers, and everyone in the labs has to go.

                “Everyone?” squealed Darcy.

                “Everyone. Even you Vivian and I see that expression. It’ll be fun, I promise. We’ll only go into this one store. I won’t torture you with anymore than that.”

                “I haven’t worn a dress in years.”

                “That’s the fun part. You hide behind those ugly clothes. Tony’ll go bananas once he sees the real you.”

                “I’m not sure I want that kind of reaction from him.”

                “It’ll be a one up against him, and I know you love that. You won’t even have to say anything scathing or witty. Just show up in a dress and show a little skin.”

                “When is this blessed event occurring?”

                “Two weeks from today.” Jane answered, taking Darcy’s arm and leading her out the door of the store.

                As Vivian followed the best friends, she was thankful that she got along well with Doctor Foster. She knew that the only reason she was given room at Stark (Avengers) Tower was due to Darcy and Jane. _And Jane’s attachment to a certain God of Thunder and his needing to keep Jane happy._ He had been conspicuously absent.

 

                The dress shop was directly across the street from the furniture store. Vivian laughed at the avarice in Darcy’s eyes.

                “Whoa, how many dresses do you need?” Vivian questioned Darcy when she started grabbing what looked like all the cocktail dresses in her size.

                “You really haven’t done this in a long time.” Jane laughed. “You gotta try everything on. It’s impossible to tell what it’ll look like on you from just hanging.”

                “Any we’re Lewis’s,” Darcy added. “We’ve got curves for miles and that can be hard to dress. You can just try on everything I’m grabbing; we’re practically the same size.” She paused for a beat, grinning cheekily. “But my boobs are way better.”

                “Says you! I don’t wear crazy push ups. I wear minimizing sports bras. My tits are _fantastic.”_ Vivian countered.

                Jane burst into laughter, grabbed her own, and sighed loudly.

                “Don’t even boss lady. Thor lurrvvess you the way you are.”

               

                “Holy shit balls Viv.” Darcy exclaimed when Vivian finally had the guts to come out of the change room a few minutes later in the little cocktail dress that Darcy had shoved at her.

                “I second the shitball comment. Whoa Vivian.”

                “Smile for the camera Viv!” Darcy was holding out her cell phone, and before Vivian could dive for cover, Darcy was grinning wickedly and typing away. Darcy flashed the image to her. It was all dress and her boobs. _Terrific._ Darcy had put it through some sort of filter, so her face and limbs were a little distorted.

                “Oh god...who are you sending that to?”  
                 
                “Everyone.” Darcy looked up from the phone quickly, and dictated her message. “Dear Stark partygoers, The Lewis’ are bringing it.”

                “I think this dress is a little much for me...”

                “If you don’t buy that dress it’s a crime.”

 

                The dress in question was all black, with a deep plunging neckline, and a skirt that ended at mid thigh. It was two layers, a silky satin beneath, and a gorgeous lace overlay, that went over the edges of the satin so the details were visible across her skin. The hem rested above the swell of her thigh tattoo, and the roses and vines were brilliant against her pale skin and the black of the dress. The birds across her collarbone and shoulder were visible, though the bulk of it was playing peek-a-boo beneath the lace of the sleeve that ended below her elbow. Vivian felt sexy and awesome in it, but still had a couple reservations.

                “Is this thing appropriate for this party?”

                “Definitely. You look sexy, but not skanky.” Jane told her.

                “Are you sure I shouldn’t wear something a little longer or with sleeves to cover my ink...?” Vivian asked.

                “No way!” Darcy nearly shouted, after coming out of her change room in a similar plunging neckline, but in a bright red. “The tats are awesome and add a bit of naughty to an otherwise super appropriate dress. I think you should wear clothes that let them show more often. I never understood why you hide them.”

                “Cuz they’re for me.” Vivian answered from inside her changing room. She was in her bra and panties, staring at the dress on the hanger. It was a lot of money to be spending on something she was only going to wear once. But the feeling while wearing it overruled any last hesitations.

                “What kind of shoes do I need for this? Cuz I am telling you right now, heels are out.”

                “We’ll get to shoes in a minute. Get out here.” The laughter in Darcy’s voice made her hesitate.

                “Why?” she asked suspiciously.

                “Two reasons. You need to see Jane’s dress, and I have some responses to your photo.”

                Vivian closed her eyes in a bid for patience.

                Jane’s dress was a gorgeous silvery blue, in a knee length faux Greek style. She looked absolutely beautiful, and Vivian told her so:

                “If this is my dress; THAT is your dress.”

                “Think Thor will like it?”

                “Uhh... Duh Jane. Duh.” Darcy responded. “Wanna hear the epic responses to your sexy photo shoot Viv?”

                “Go on then.” Vivian complied, not about to let Darcy know she was dying to hear.

                “Stark says: ’Pepper recommends booties. What the fuck are booties. But great dress kid. The girls look amazing.’ Clint merely says: ‘Guuh. Watch what you’re doing to a man Darce.’ They have no idea it’s you!” Darcy giggled, but apparently had one more text. “Steve says: ‘Your sister looks beautiful Doll.’” Silence hit the three women. Vivian felt herself turning red.

                “Oh my goodness. Vivian and Steve!” Jane practically shouted.

                “What? No! He’s like a super soldier, he probably can see more in the photos than the other two.”

                “He totally knows it’s you. Steven Rogers and Vivian Lewis sittin’ in a tree...!”

                “Oh my god, are you twelve?!”

                “Nope, but it sure bugs you like you were twelve!” Darcy cackled.

 

***

 

                After they had returned home and hauled their purchases into their respectable rooms, the sisters flopped themselves onto their couch.

                “So, not so bad right?” Darcy rolled her head towards Vivian.

                “No, not so bad.” Vivian agreed with a smile.

                “What next?” Darcy asked.

                “What do you mean?”

                “You got a chair and some paintings. This is our home. There must be one thing you always wanted to come back to overseas.”

                There was. Something that Vivian had always wanted. Dreamed of since she was little.

                Vivian and Darcy had the same father, but different mothers. No messy divorces, just people passing through each other’s lives. He’d met her mother when she was a college student on vacation in new York, and her father on shore leave.

                A few tumultuous days later, and some weeks after that, Sally Owens was pregnant. It never resulted in a relationship, but they stayed close. He was a good father. A few years later he met Darcy’s mother. Who he was still very much in love with and married to.

                The three parents decided to try to keep the sisters as close siblings as possible. Holidays and vacations were swapped, one summer in Vancouver BC and the next in Greenwich, Connecticut. It had been a wonderful childhood.

                “A dog.” She whispered.

                “Oh my god, really?!”

                “Uuughhh... yeah. I’ve always wanted a dog.”

                “Awe, puppy.”

                “Darce...”

                “We’ll have to ask Tony. No, wait, Pepper.”

                “Wait. What? Are you suggesting I get a dog?”

                “Duh. Vivian. I pretty much wrecked your life with that phone call. I’m trying to help you the only way I can. By helping you make a home.”

                “Darce.” Vivian tried to smile. “Darcy. You didn’t ruin anything. I’m glad you called me. You can ALWAYS call me. No matter what. Goods. Aliens. Alien gods.”

                “Superheroes.” Darcy finished.

                “Superheroes.” Vivian agreed.

                “So.”

                “So?”

                “So Steve.”

                “Oh my god Darce, seriously?”

                “Yes seriously. He had hearts in his eyes after you shot him.”

                “That was shock and horror.”

                “It was not. How do you explain him recognizing you in that photo? Hawkeye didn’t even recognize you.”

                “What? Who’s Hawkeye?”

                “Umm... Clint. Didn’t you know?”

                “No! But it makes sense; he was with Sitwell when I was recruited.”

                “Fucking Sitwell.”

                “How did I not know Clint was a mother flippin’ avenger? I played a shot for shot game of tag with him.”

                “And held your own.” Darcy stated, crossing her arms and daring Vivian to argue her point.

                Vivian countered, “He tricked me into thinking we were on a team.”

                “You came in second.”

                Vivian laughed, “Not bad for an ex Military Medic ex SHIELD agent, new bandage applicator for Stark Industries.”

                “Don’t forget to add friend to the Avengers.”

                “I’m not friends with any of them.”

                “God you’re deluded. Tony? Clint? I do believe you spent the other afternoon playing tag with them.”

                “Two Avengers.”

                “Steve likes you.”

                “We met for ten minutes.”

                “So get to know him then.”

                “What? How?”

                “What the hell Viv. Are you being obtuse for a reason? The usual way. Talk to him. You have things in common.”

                “So what? I should just wait around in stairwells to see if I meet up with him?”

                Darcy sighed as if Vivian was causing her physical pain, “Or just come with me to family dinner night.”

                “Family dinner?”

                “Tony’s idea. Jane and I get invited.”

                “You can’t just invite me. I’m not...”

                “You’re my family.”

                “Yes, but they don’t know me.”

                “Clint does. Tony does. What better way for the rest?”

                Vivian had no argument.

                “Come tonight. Jane and Pepper will be there. No one will tell you to leave. I promise.”

                “Fine. One night trial. Since my new chair won’t be here till next week.”

                Darcy laughed, “Whatever excuse works.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So these chapters were written over the course of a week, so I'm not sure when the next few will come out. Hopefully no more than another week.  
> Thanks for reading :)


	4. It's Complicated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I cannot apologize enough for not posting anything in...what feels like forever.   
> Life man. It just happens.

Vivian splashed water onto her face to cool down her nerves. Darcy wasn't letting any excuse stand and was actually harassing her into going to movie night. With the mother flipping Avengers. How had she gone from simple medic to this?   
Vivian sighed at her reflection, studying the scars that slashed across her cheek and chin, and fell below, across her collarbone and shoulder. An accurately thrown grenade had showered her in shrapnel. She was lucky she hadn't lost her eye or worse.   
Having woken up in the hospital knowing her best friends and lover were gone had been as bad as a physical blow. It still gave her anxiety when she drifted back to that moment. Small bursts of OCD had shown up, and her personality took a turn towards conservative.   
There was a knock on the bathroom door and Darcy spoke,   
"Hey Viv, Jane's here, you ready to go?"  
Vivian opened the door to her sister instead of voicing an answer. Darcy paused and seemed to take her appearance in.   
"Oh Viv, you don't really have to go. I just want you to get to know my friends. We can try another time."  
It was the concern and pity in her younger sister's voice that snapped Vivian out of it.   
"No, I'm going. I just needed a moment. All good now." The lie fell easily and she felt guilty.   
"Hey Vivian."Jane greeted as the sisters walked into the living room.  
"Hello Jane," Vivian responded formally, teasing Jane who always used her full name.

“Darce!” Clint shouted when Darcy excited the elevator moments before Vivian. “And Vivi? EVERYONE! It’s Darcy’s big sis Vivi!”  
“Hi Clint.” Vivian responded dryly.  
“Hello Ladies. Can I get either of you a drink?” Steve said from their left where he was standing in the kitchen. He was holding open the fridge door.  
“A glass of wine please! Thanks Steve!”  
“Sure. Vivian, Wine?” He caught her gaze and her heart stuttered a bit. Damn Darcy and her teasing. Damn him and his lovely eyes and earnest face.  
“No thanks. Not much of a wine drinker.”  
“Clint has some beers in here. And Tony has a liquor collection.”  
A beer sounded like heaven, but, “Collection?”  
He laughed, “That’s the only word for it.”  
“A beer would be great.”  
“Excellent. Go find a seat and I’ll bring them to you.”  
“Thanks.” They smiled at each other and he turned away to get glasses.   
Darcy grinned conspiratorially at her. Vivian rolled her eyes. 

 

Tony Stark had a personal theatre. Vivian shouldn’t have been surprised, but the decadence was always staggering. This wasn’t just any theatre with individual seats that folded down, squeaked and made your ass numb. This was a giant room with plush looking lounge chairs. They looked like they’d sit two people cozily.   
Tony and Pepper were snuggled in one, Clint with a gorgeous redhead she didn’t know in another, and Darcy sprang onto the one where Jane was sitting. There were a couple more empties, so she sat on the one behind them.  
Steve walked in carrying their drinks and her stomach tightened. Fuck. This was full blown crush territory. He passed Darcy her glass of wine before standing in front of Vivian.  
“Here’s your beer.”  
“Thank you.” She leaned over to take it.  
“Mind if I sit with you? Pretty antisocial to sit alone.”  
“Umm, sure.” She motioned with her beer. He’d poured it into a proper glass, not just brought her a bottle.   
He gestured to the “ARMY” shirt she still wore. “Darcy mentioned you were ex-Army. What brought you to Stark Industries?”  
“...It’s complicated.”  
He huffed a quiet laugh, “It usually is.”  
She laughed, “I was a medic in the Canadian military. Then I got a phone call from a scared sister. She was in the middle of London, complaining about gods and aliens. Less than 48 hours later Clint and scary faceless Agents were on my base. I joined SHIELD pretty fast after that.” She stressed the word joined.  
“Ah. Sorry about dismantling them.”  
“Don’t be. That was a good thing. I was at the Triskelion that day. And Sitwell was an asshole.” She paused, and finished with, “He conscripted me.”  
“Complicated.” He chuckled. “You weren’t kidding.”  
“Not even a little. It’s a good thing Darcy knows people who know people. I’m not built for much other than being a medic.”  
“How many tours?” It was a common question. It was also in her file she was sure. And Avengers were the kind of people who read files. She answered anyways,  
“Three and nearly a half.”  
“Wow.”  
“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN: Tonight I offer a cinematic delight and masterpiece:” Tony interrupted loudly. “JURRASSIC PARK!”  
Darcy and Jane cheered.   
“Have you seen it?” Vivian asked Steve.  
“No, what’s it about?”   
“Dinosaurs. Men playing god with bad results. But mostly dinosaurs.”  
“Sounds great.”  
“It really is.”

Vivian had never enjoyed Jurassic Park so much. Steve jumped at all the good parts and was in genuine awe of the dinosaurs.  
“Are they robots?” He asked.  
“The dinos? I think parts of them are – but not like Stark robots. These are purely mechanical. No AIs. Some of it might be animated though.”  
“Like Disney?”  
She smiled at him. He might be a man out of time, but he was smart.   
“Sort of. Animation is now done on computers. More detail than the pen and ink.”  
“It’s amazing.”  
“I know. I love movies. We had this theatre at base. I had this friend James--”  
He pinned her with a look. She stared blankly back at him, but he didn’t say anything. Instead he stood up and stalked to the doorway.  
Darcy turned and gave her a questioning look. Apparently it was odd behavior, and not in Vivian’s head.  
“Don’t look at me, we were talking movies and he left.”  
“Anyone want popcorn?” Steve had come back, and was leaning out of the door.  
Hands shot into the air, and yesses were called out. He nodded to them and disappeared. Vivian sat with indecision for a moment before she bolted out of her seat and went after Steve.

She found him in the kitchen slamming cupboards.  
“Hey!” she said brightly, “Need any help? It’s a lot of popcorn to handle.”  
He froze and turned slowly. He jaw was clenched and he was white knuckling the counter.  
“Do you want me to go?” she halted mid-stride into the kitchen. Something was so painfully obviously wrong. She instinctively wanted to help him. “It’s just – you look so upset. Can I help?”  
He hadn’t said anything. She stopped in the entryway and waited.  
“Steve?” She questioned after another bout of silence.  
“Your friend James--” He started.  
“Yes?”  
“He never went home did he?”  
“No.”  
“I’m sorry.”  
“Thank you. Me too. He was a good man.”  
Steve tried to smile at her and she responded with similar. She wondered who he had to talk to about whatever it was that was bothering him. She felt suddenly silly for following him to the kitchen. She had no idea what had set him off, and now was he supposed to confide in her? He didn’t know her outside of her being Darcy’s sister.   
“I miss him. James.” She suddenly blurted. His eyes flicked up to hers from where he was pulling out bowls.  
“He was one of my best friends on tour. I loved him. We talked about getting married. Darcy doesn’t even know that.” She couldn’t seem to stop herself from talking. Steve had put the bowl down to give her his full attention. “Except there was also Thomas. James and Thomas. James and Thomas and... Me.” A sob suddenly escaped her. “I loved them both with all I had, and they died in front of me.”   
Steve suddenly reached his big arms out and surrounded her with a hug.   
“Shhh...” He whispered. “I’m sorry.”  
Vivian let herself settle into his hug, shuddering to prevent the ugly sobs building inside her. He pat her on the back awkwardly, and she stifled a laugh. The poor bastard. She’d come here to talk to him, and here she was crying into his arms like a damsel in distress.   
With a steadying breath, she pushed away from him, and wiped her eyes. She forced a smile on her face.  
“God, sorry, I’m just gonna go...” She began to tiptoe backwards. “Let’s just pretend...”   
“Wait,” Steve stopped her. “Don’t...” He smiled sheepishly, and ran his fingers through his short blonde hair. “Do you want to go for a walk with me?”  
“...A walk?”  
“Yeah, um, outside the tower.” He sighed. “We can talk.”


End file.
